A sailor will carve a mermaid on the bow of his ship,
trust her to lead him anywhere, hands burning as he pulls rope to follow her.
no blame to her worshiped name.
A sailor will let his skin turn brittle with the salt wind,
in search of a mermaid’s innocent ocean beauty.
But in the same journey a sailor will keep iron barbed nets,
tear his ears off in rage, at the cursed, helpless song of a siren,
evil tied to her like an anchor to the depths.
And a sailor will let his palms bleed tainted saltwater with the burn of rope,
to chase a siren’s innocent ocean beauty.
